High on the lonely yorkshire moorland

the village set was built

a long way from their main city studio

an imaginary society

had the feel of a real existing location

not a television creation!


When not in use an unsettling stillness

filled the fresh moving air

unseen activity as if life was going on

faint constant whispers

cast and crew aware of a muted sound

their subconscious did hound!


Amongst the farm animals beasts roamed

hypnotic glowing red eyes

savage snarling devil dog’s fangs exposed

wandering on the village edge

always in the shadows rarely are they seen

their very presence obscene!


Security patrolled quietly as filming proceeded

as reality and fantasy mingled

unaware of the other dimensions interacting

the crew huddled observing

actors becoming familiar characters on action

creating believable interaction!


Moments when an image mist or a shadow

that was not within the script

added to the mystique of an enchanting take

that the cameraman or director

could not grasp in the pressure of the shoot

when the schedule was acute!


But maybe the fears of any ghostly presence

is not always something to dread

this is just the mingling of nature’s elements

that should be embraced

there undisturbed since the earth was formed

before man the planet swarmed!


Do those who venture to this moorland oasis

need to fear the ghosts and spirits

blend and tease those gathered in the village

passing in and around their bodies

everyone prepares for another take to begin

feeling a slight tingle on the skin!


The anticipation of the moment is absorbed

as the pressures of a schedule

has blocked any fears of the village ambience

in a vast open landscape

paranormal discoveries remain imagination

with a disconcerting agitation!


In the village the filming goes on!


The Foureyed Poet.


Clear E. V. P!

Phil could not believe what he had just heard

as he sat in the cellar

doing a lone vigil it was fine until he replayed

and a deep voice hissed

saying ‘Get Out Or Die! it was a clear warning

edgy the team was informing!


Turning on his torch glanced at the surroundings

now with a sense of a presence

other members of the team joined him there

excited at this threatening EVP

their first response since entering the premises

it felt they had met their nemesis!


As a collective the fear factor greatly diminished

after all this was evidence

this their purpose for investigating the building

together sitting in anticipation

there was a natural chill in the dank atmosphere

their determination clear!


Feeling it was the time to have a calling out session

try to capture more voices

asking questions like is anybody here with us now

are you trapped in this cellar

two digital recorders now used in case one did fail

then heard a pitiful wail!


With heightened awareness asked more questions

after half an hour played back

a bang nearby made them twitch nerves tingled

at first there was  nothing a tall

but recorder one a long growl and clear voice tone

‘we are here you’re not alone!’


Followed by faint screams a hiss and then silence

but on the second recorder

a mocking voice called out the name of Gillian

somebody gasped loudly

it was their name the voice continued ‘I see you’

had a spirit come through?


In a dark cellar only camcorder screens gave light

a yelp of sudden pain

broke the quietness as the girl said her back hurt

a torch was switched on

three long bleeding scratches seen as back exposed

already staining her clothes!


There was a growing excitement and consternation

it would be best to leave now

not before one more eerie recording was heard

‘beast’ echoed in a clear sound

just then a stone was thrown bouncing off a wall

and by them closely did fall!


This was the point they each decided to exit here

never feeling on their own

it was five am though pleased with their results

actually were terror-stricken

clearing up the equipment just wanted to leave

as a danger did perceive!


Though intensive night would be back for more!


The Foureyed Poet.



Published in: on 09/04/2015 at 21:40  Leave a Comment  

Drift Wood!

A walk along the beach was where it began

the tide was rolling in.

On holiday in an area steeped in mystery

and maritime legends.

I found what to me seemed just drift wood

with bare feet on it stood.


Smooth and well-worn by the sand and sea

curious picked it up.

A name had been etched into the surface

this drew my  attention.

It read The Rising Sun to what did it belong

vibrating something was wrong!


Made my hand tingle put it in my tee-shirt

then back to my rented place.

Eager to search and find more information

certain there was more.

Not any piece of flotsam and jetsam here

maybe sunken treasure near!


Back home unwrapped this unique drift wood

that still dripped water.

Thought I had dried the excessive moisture

placed it by the computer.

Excitement welled searching for the name

at first seemed a fun game.


Finding the reference to a sunken pirate ship

discovering it was a cursed ship!

Came upon the screen in stark bold letters

showing a life-like drawing.

Depicting what it may have looked in battle

a noise it started to rattle!


Becoming unstable then crashing to the floor

as if knocked off in anger!

But nobody else was with me in the room

edgy but determined to read on.

Whoever touched anything from that ship 

would be on a hell bound trip!


Gasping as the drift wood flew through the air

then the pointed end struck.

Piercing his beating heart falling off the chair

his eyes were soon glazed over!

Being a loner it was days before he was found

nobody had heard a sound!


The drift wood was not in his chest any more

a friend took it out of a draw.


The curse of The rising Sun had come back!


The Foureyed Poet.





Published in: on 25/09/2013 at 02:36  Comments (2)  
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